Little Victories
by antra
Summary: Episode Tag to 7.08 Season Seven, Time for a Wedding


**Little victories**  
><em>Episode Tag to 7.08 <em>_Season Seven, Time for a Wedding!  
>As always, nothing belongs to me. I give them back after playing. <em>

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Dean brooded.

That was the only word Sam could find for his behavior.

He drove their car-of-the-moment, ignored the radio – Hits of the 80s – ignored Sam and everything else apart the street in front of them.

He would have expected his brother to say more about his marriage with Becky, but no wisecracks in that area.

Of course they had their first encounter with Crowley in a while but that didn't explain it either.

"OK, I can't take it anymore, Dean. Why are you brooding?"

"I'm not." His tone made clear that he didn't want to talk about it.

"Yes, you are. You are brooding since we left. You didn't say anything about Crowley or laughed about my marriage, said anything concerning Becky or bitched about Garth. Non-brooding Dean would have done all of that."

A sigh.

"That demon. He asked me for my autograph."

Sam remembered, he had found that funny.

"And?"

Dean looked at him as if Sam was mentally challenged. A _demon _asked for _my_ autograph. What does that say about me, Sam?"

He still didn't get it. "That you are well known in hell?"

Dean snorted. "Yeah right. Sam, there was a reason Alistair did want me back. Why I was his protégé. Once he left me of the rack,"

Dean stopped. He didn't want to tell his brother this at all but he wouldn't understand otherwise.

"Despite being Alistair's student I was just a soul, Sam. But after they saw me at the rack demons were afraid of me."

His shame. Not only had he broken, not only had he tortured souls, all bad enough in itself, no, he had to have a talent for torturing, a real gift.

Sam was not really that surprised with that revelation. Not that he thought his brother was a born torturer, hell no, but he had all the characteristics needed for the job: single minded focus, overwhelming intensity, extensive anatomical knowledge and creativity.

Funnily enough these were also some of the reasons all woman Sam had ever seen with his brother left their motel room with bright smiles.

This was perhaps not the time to tell Dean that.

"So you think he is a fan of your work down there?

Dean, you did a lot of things that had an impact on hell. All the demons you exorcized or killed, hell's most wanted, heaven's most wanted, Dean, you stopped the apocalypse.

Think of this Guy as a demon who is a fan of serial killers. Just, you know, from hell's perspective. Bad for the bad guys."

Dean mulled that over. "OK, I can live with that. It's strange, I mean, who is a fan of a serial killer, come on. Demons…"

He shook his head with the idea.

"Dean, that's not specific for demons. There are lots of humans out there who are fans of serial killers. Lots of people write murderers in prison, sometimes they even marry them."

Dean looked at him.

"You are joking." Sam didn't react.

"You are not joking."

Another awful thought.

"Dude, tell me our Leviathan killer doubles didn't have fans."

Sam's face looked as if he had smelled something bad.

"They had and have. Apparently going on a killing spree makes you pretty popular.

There are whole websites dedicated to killers and the Winchester brothers generated interest there"

Dean stared at his brother, mumbling something about not getting humans. Sam knew better then to tell more.

He didn't need to tell his brother that he checked on those sides regularly for any sign that they had been recognized somewhere and law enforcement would be looking for them again. Dean knew that without telling.

"Perhaps we will run into a version of Becky. Just, you know, she would be after you."

Dean shuddered at the idea of a Becky version with a serial killer kink after him.

"Hey, you are the one who ends up marrying them, bitch."

"Jerk"

It wasn't OK, but for the moment Dean was thinking about other things than his fans in hell.

Sam took the little victories whenever he could.

They were rare enough.


End file.
